


Beyond the Screen

by mrsjingujiii



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Camboy!Kuroo, Come Eating, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Creampie, Dacryphilia, Dirty Talk, F/M, Friends to Lovers, Marking, Mutual Masturbation, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Rough Sex, Squirting, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 05:53:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29431278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrsjingujiii/pseuds/mrsjingujiii
Summary: Love comes into your life at ten pm on a Friday night. Kuroo Tetsurou smiles suavely  into the camera, and you watch him on the screen through your glossy eyes. Love is in the beads of sweat on his forehead, and the trembling of your legs as your body goes limp.wc: 9.3k+
Relationships: Kuroo Tetsurou & Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader
Comments: 1
Kudos: 94





	Beyond the Screen

**Author's Note:**

> I can’t believe this is my first Tetsurou long smut? Anyways, presenting Camboy!Kuroo <33 
> 
> Check out my tumblr @mrs-kuroojinguji for more of my works!

If there is a special feature on your phone that keeps track of the vocabularies you have often been using for the past few months, the number one position will undoubtedly go to the word rain check. 

Because the number of times you’ve rejected a dinner invitation or ditched a girls’ night out midway? Ridiculously a lot. Almost regularly, in all honesty. 

University hasn’t been as hectic as you thought it would be. Choosing your own classes, arranging your own timetable, a little bit of spare time for a small part-time job in a nearby bookstore; it’s been alleviating compared to high school, you think, but it hasn’t been going the way your high school self had wanted either. 

Because you had promised yourself to meet new people, to expand your social circle, and to make these so-called ‘important connections’ your parents had often reminded ]you about. But you suppose all of your resolve and determination had gone down the drain ever since your best friend of six years decided to follow in your footsteps and go to the same school (and faculty) as you. 

Sometimes you’re not sure if Kuroo Tetsurou is a blessing or a curse, because you’d be lying if you said you would rather waste your money on a chic dinner with the girls than staying in with Tetsurou and a two hundred-yen cup of ramen. Because if you are given the choice to either spend one whole day with your friends for one million dollars or spend the rest of your life with Tetsurou for zero dollars, you would still pick the latter. 

Kuroo Tetsurou is sweet and saccharine and everything in between; like the jellybeans he shared with you on the first day of middle school, and the clever back and forth banter during the after school cleaning duties. He teaches you how to be comfortably and unapologetically yourself, because he thinks there’s nothing wrong about you eating four packets of instant noodles in one sitting, or the fact that the arches of your eyebrows are never even. With him, the world seems like a mere chocolate candy in a crunchy shell, every moment is always fun and pleasant and vibrant. 

And then one night - with slurred words and flushed cheeks and breath smelling like strong vodka - he told you that you looked beautiful before closing the gap between you with a kiss. 

You naturally reciprocated his action, kissing him back only because you were too inebriated to pull away, or so you convinced yourself. Because the truth was that Kuroo Tetsurou just told you that you were beautiful, and that he was, and still is, handsome and suave and everything you find attractive in a man. There was no way you’d be able to pull yourself off of someone like that. 

(Not that you wanted to. After all, you always find yourself saying yes to his every whim.) 

You wanted to also convince yourself that sleeping with him and letting things escalate was never your intention, that if only you weren’t drunk that night you wouldn’t be here right now, chanting his name over and over like a mantra with him buried balls-deep inside you. 

“What about homework?” Tetsurou’s words come out as a low whisper into your ear and even though they’re far from filthy, something about the deep timbre in his voice goes straight to your core. He groans when he feels you flutter around him, chuckling snarkily when you whimper a curse word through gritted teeth. 

“Fuck, don’t ask me that when I’m so close, Tetsurou,” you retort, earning an animalistic growl from him that only makes your body heat up. His flushed face glistens with sweat, his hazel orbs staring right and through you with a hungry gaze that he doesn’t even try to hide. He looks handsome and riveting and sweet, and when you tangle your arms around his neck and pull him down for a sloppy kiss, you can confidently say that he tastes just as sweet and addicting. 

His lips are hot when he nibbles your jaw that you swear you could melt. “No marking,” you warn breathily as Tetsurou trails his mouth down to the junction of your neck, slowly grazing it to just under your ear. 

“Why not?” he teasingly asks, knowing exactly the reason why. The tempo of his hips slows down and the lopsided smirk that plasters his lips turns into a tantalising grin as he looks up, lashes fluttering and hair messy. 

“‘Cause we’re just friends,” you reply to him, squirming and asking for him to move without even a hint of supplication. 

‘Best friends who sleep together.’ That’s how you would describe your relationship with Tetsurou. ‘Fuck buddy’ or ‘friends with benefits’ somehow doesn’t sit well with you, considering the amount of feelings you know the both of you carry for each other. 

You squeal when he sinks his teeth into the flesh of your neck, sucking and leaving a trail of red bruises down to your collarbone. “But you don’t mind, do you?” His voice has plummetted an octave lower, earning a wanton moan of his name from you. 

Tetsurou takes that as an answer and you let him. Because no, you’re not together; no, you’re not lovers; but yes, everybody knows that Tetsurou is yours just as much as you are his. His bruises on your skin, the crescent marks of your nails on his shoulder; it’s been a public secret for months now, to the point where you wear each other’s marks proudly like the Olympic gold medals.

And as Tetsurou’s hips stutter and his thrusts grow sporadic with every passing second, you know that you don’t want to do this with anybody else. He is sweetly addicting, his familiar scent makes your head spin, and his groans of your name as he comes undone inside of you is intoxicating. 

“I don’t mind,” you finally give him an answer, panting and breathless as you try to catch your breath. “I never do.” 

Tetsurou smiles, thinking about how beautiful you are beneath him with the dim lights of the bedroom casting shadows on your face and your hair sprawled messily on the pillow. He can hear his own heartbeat jackhammering against his chest. It’s just one of your magic tricks, he muses silently, because he knows that you’re the only one who’s able to light his body on fire and make his heart leap out of his chest. He simply cannot do this with anybody else. 

You’re not together, but you suppose you’re each other’s missing piece of puzzle. 

-

“Isn’t it supposed to be your treat today?” 

Aftercare with Tetsurou is like rolling dice; sometimes you’d get the warm bath, rose-scented bath bomb, and his home-cooked dinner, but you suppose tonight it’s the pick which country for dinner and who’s paying argument - which is, in a way, more Kuroo Tetsurou. Because as much as you love being taken care of and feeling his calloused fingers over your skin as he helps you wash yourself, you love this witty and slightly annoying part of Tetsurou. 

“It’s your turn, idiot. I paid for lunch yesterday.” He sticks out his bottom lip, pouting with his hair is still damp, a towel slung around his neck as drips of water fall down to the screen of his phone. 

“I’m broke as fuck,” he says for the nth time this week alone, and you find yourself laughing again. 

That’s a very Tetsurou thing to say, you muse. 

Tetsurou works as an assistant tutor, a position that was granted to him despite being a sophomore thanks to his brilliant academic achievements. That’s another part of Tetsurou that you secretly enjoy watching, considering how natural he looks walking around the classroom with his rolled-up sleeve and glasses resting loosely on the bridge of his nose. In fact, everything about him is natural and genuine, from his suaveness to his nonchalant and sometimes irritating attitude; Kuroo Tetsurou is the epitome of genuineness and authenticity, and nothing about him is ever artificial. 

“I’m broke too,” you reply to him, giggling when he rolls his eyes at you. “Instant noodles? I just bought a new flavour.”

Bright lights, messy room, the whooshing of the hairdryer, and an unknown show playing on the TV. Yeah, who needs alcohol on a Friday night when you can stay in with Tetsurou, sit on the ground in your ugliest sweatpants, talk about everything and nothing all at once, and munch on your instant noodles like it’s the best meal in the world? 

“Apparently strippers earn like two to three thousand dollars per hour,” Tetsurou says, commenting on the show that’s now rolling on the TV. “And porn stars make less than them. Around one to two thousand dollars per video, I think.” 

“Hold on, why are you so knowledgeable in this topic?” you ask, your tone intrigued as you search for the remote control to press the pause button. 

He purses his lips with a small hum. “I’ve been doing some research on...employment possibility? Any likelihood for extra income?” he says, and you scoff in disbelief. 

“And so you think you can dance like Magic Mike?” you tease him with a tantalising smile. 

He smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. “I can dance better than him, please. You’d be throwing your bills at me.” 

“Tetsu, you can’t even do the body wave,” you say and he sighs dramatically. “Stripper is out, say goodbye to being a stripper.” 

“Okay, then what about porn star?” he asks, and from the lightness in his voice, you know that he’s not serious with his words, perhaps something he said only to irk you. 

“No,” you reply fast and short, your tone flat and monotonous but sharp and piercing. “Not that.” 

I don’t like it, you say inwardly. Because you know that you don’t have the right to limit him, to control who he’s allowed to kiss and who he can sleep with. The lines of your relationship with him may be a blur, but if there’s one thing that you’re aware of, it’s that there are absolutely no strings attached. 

But still, you don’t like the idea of him touching someone else, his burning lips on someone else’s skin, and his mouth spewing groans of someone else’s name. Tetsurou is yours, just like how the public knows already. 

And when you can feel something raging and bubbling in the pit of your stomach, an epiphany hits you. One truth that you find yourself denying over and over again, the one sensation that is against the rules of the game, and the one feeling is not allowed to be there. 

Jealousy. 

“Yeah, no. Not that.”

Tetsurou agrees easily, and the both of you dive into silence. You give him a quick glance in hopes that you can get a glimpse of what’s inside his head, but he has that unreadable expression on his features. Tetsurou is good at curbing his feelings (he’s always been good at it), and sometimes, it does frustrate you. 

“What about being a streamer?” you suggest, your voice barely audible over the ending credit music. It’s a crazy and risky idea, but you suppose still less crazy than being a porn star. 

“Streamer? I don’t play games,” Tetsurou replies nonchalantly, and you slap his arm lightly. 

“Not streaming games,” you retort, emphasising what you mean by a little up and down motion of your fist. “Do you know what I mean now?” 

His cheeks turn several shades darker. “Of course I do. Your hand gesture was obvious enough,” he says, and you chuckle. 

“Just an idea, instead of straight-up having sex with a stranger in front of a whole camera crew, you know?” 

Tetsurou hums, and from the way he’s drumming his fingers and chewing the inside of his cheek you know that he’s in deep thoughts. He’s actually considering it, and you try to ignore a small part of you that wishes he doesn’t. 

“Does it work like a vlog? I get so awkward in front of the camera,” he says, and you realise that it’s already too late to take back everything you said to him. 

“You won’t know unless you try,” you tell him with a cheeky smile. 

And that might have been the most regrettable decision you have ever made in your life. 

-

Because it is nine pm on a Friday night when Tetsurou takes another rain check on yet another dinner.

If you’re speaking honestly, you miss him (and sexually frustrated too, you suppose). Because three weeks isn’t necessarily a short time, and you wish you never suggested the idea had you known that he would be robbed away from you and seeing him would be this difficult. Tetsurou seems to be enjoying his new job though; his voice over the phone sounding rather ecstatic about his live stream tonight, telling you that he’s got a new camera set up that he wants to try out. It’s going to look ‘very professional’, he tells you. 

Tetsurou isn’t necessarily secretive about this part of him, although he never outwardly asks you to watch his live streams. But his username and his schedule are written on a yellow sticky note that he’s placed neatly on your desk, ‘just in case you wanna send me some gold,’ quoting him directly.

He’s teasing you and you know it, but as you hover your cursor over the search bar and type in his username, it’s then when you have finally succumbed to your curiosity. 

You know that you’ve fallen for his trap. 

Your gaze falls onto his face first, lounging on his swivel chair in a sleeveless top that you’re very familiar with. You smile, because despite how unfamiliar you are with the website; a chatroom on the right side, a donation button on the bottom, and a private show option beside it, Tetsurou’s face amongst all of them quickly becomes your comfort zone. You really do miss him. 

“Are we all ready?” his voice interrupts your musings as he throws the camera a quick glance, pausing briefly to adjust the angle. 

“Alright. Hey all, it’s Katsurou again, live. Hope you’ll enjoy tonight’s show.” 

There’s something bizarre about watching Tetsurou on your computer screen. Because no doubt he is the same Tetsurou; his voice (although heard over the speaker of your laptop) that still sends shivers down your spine, his lopsided smirk that’s annoying yet endearing at the same time, the curves of his biceps that dust your face with a shade of pink. 

There’s something surreal about watching him on the screen because it’s the same Kuroo Tetsurou, but the overflowing chat room on the right tells you that you’re here not as his best friend, but as one of his viewers. 

And as the show progresses, the filthier his words become, and the more he reveals his body, until he’s left in nothing but his underwear. You gulp when you see a prominent bulge on the front of his boxer, feeling a wave of heat rushing to your core when Tetsurou pumps himself over the cotton material. 

“Fuck, I’m so fucking hard already,” he groans out, making a show of grazing his tongue along his bottom lip as his eyes skim through the incoming comments. 

“Yeah? You want me to take these off?” he replies with a flirty tone, smirking when the chat room is flooded with a never-ending string of ‘yes’. 

“My dirty little kitties. Another fifty golds and I will consider showing you what’s underneath this.” A lopsided smirk plasters his lips as he says so, eyes twinkling tantalisingly as he maintains the slow, teasing stroke on his shaft. 

You replay his words in your head and wince when you feel a little twinge in your chest. Yes, Tetsurou and you may be on a first-name basis relationship, but never has he once called you by a pet name, not even when you’re in bed. So why is it very easy for him to call these nobodies his ‘little kitties’? 

But you know you’re not one to complain when the effect of his lewd words on you is instantaneous, your crossed legs now tightly pressed against each other and you’re squirming and writhing before you even know it. 

“Wow, 100 golds? Eager, aren’t you?” Tetsurou chimes, and your gaze immediately falls to the highlighted name katsurou’s pretty kitten <3 in the chat room. “Thank you always, kitten,” he remarks, ending it with a flirtatious wink. 

The twinge in your chest quickly grows into a violent thumping as you clench your jaw, steeling yourself from the growing heat of jealousy that surges through your body. You remind yourself that you have no right to feel this way, that Tetsurou is only doing this because it’s his job; 

-and that he is by no means yours. 

He’s only doing this for money, you silently remind yourself over and over again as Tetsurou undresses his last piece of clothing hastily. You clench when his stiff erection bobs against his stomach, its tip red and angry and on the verge of combusting. He really is fucking hard already, and Tetsurou is quick to wrap his fingers around it, giving it a little squeeze as he hisses through greeted teeth. 

“You wanna take this cock that badly, huh? I don’t think you can handle me though, kitten,” he rasps, panting while skimming through the obscene remarks that people are throwing at him. The same name has left a comment saying ‘yeah, I bet that cock will make me cry’, and you smirk triumphantly because you know that Tetsurou’s cock is capable of many other things. 

And no matter how petty you think you’re being, the fact remains that you’re the fucking winner. 

Because while these nameless viewers are probably pleasuring themselves to the thought of getting fucked by their favourite camboy, you know firsthand what it feels like to have his cock rearranging your guts, to have him whisper those lewd words into your ear as he fucks you through your orgasm, to have him relentlessly use you to his pleasure. 

“Are you wet for me, kitten?” Tetsurou interrupts your chain of thoughts and when your gaze lands on him again, fuck, you could swear a whimper of his name slips past your lips. 

His head is lolled back and with hazy eyes he continues to fuck his own fist, rubbing and stroking and occasionally teasing the glistening slit, smearing the pre all over the head. His chest heaves up and down frantically, and his tensed abs underneath the lighting of his bedroom make you swallow back a lump in your throat. Is this what he meant by ‘it’s going to look professional’? If professional means enticing and tempting, then you suppose he was correct. 

Tetsurou looks fucking good right now, and you’re incredibly wet for him. 

“Touch yourselves for me, yeah?” his throaty voice is laced with lust as he speaks to the camera once again.

And damn it, you’ve never thought of yourself as someone who would commit such indecency but there you are, panting as you rid your damp panties because your best friend jerking off in front of the camera turns you on so much that it’s getting unbearable. 

Your cold fingertips immediately go for your soaked entrance, wetting the pad of your index finger with the fluid that’s practically leaking out. 

“Fuck, Tetsu, am so wet for you,” your words fall on deaf ears as you slide your fingers up to tease your clit with two digits just like how Tetsurou normally would. 

If anybody walks in on you and sees the current state that you’re in, you’d be doomed, because you don’t need a mirror to know that you look incredibly pathetic right now. Your legs spread open so wide, fingers frantically rubbing your drenched sex as you no longer able to curb the helpless whimpers of Tetsurou’s name. 

“What a good girl,” Tetsurou coos over the camera, drawing another moan from you. If you’re there in his room with him, you might be able to see puffs of steam coming out of his mouth, because that’s just how hard he’s panting. His eyes are riveted on the screen but his pupils are blank and dead - almost inscrutable, unlike when he’s fucking you and you know exactly what’s going on in his mind. 

What’s in his head right now? Is he reading through the dirty comments? What is he thinking about that makes his hips jerk up like that? 

Is he thinking about you? 

“Fuck,” you whisper, breathless as you spread yourself open with one of your digits. Is he thinking about you, you wonder, because behind the closed door of your bedroom your mind wanders to him, strands of hair bouncing off his sweaty forehead as he thrusts into you, lips ghosting the flesh of your shoulder before imprinting his teeth mark and leaving splotches of hickeys along your neck, and mouth spewing nothing but sweet, sweet praises into your ear. 

“Fuck,” on the screen of your laptop Tetsurou quickens his pace, and you swear it’s like he’s conversing with you. It’s like he’s in this room, his moans matching yours, his breath fanning your neck. Everything feels real. He feels real. 

That’s just how touch-starved you are. 

And before you know it one of your digits becomes two, and then three, and then obscene squelching noises reverberate against the walls of your bedroom as you chase after a release that’s just around the corner. 

Tetsurou inhales, his breath shaky, his pace frantic and sporadic, his jaw clenched and shoulder tensed as you trace the visible veins on his skin through your narrowed eyes. 

He’s close. 

“Fuck, I’m so close,” he affirms, and a wanton reply of ‘me too’ is beyond your control, as well as the string of please’s falling off your lips every time your body shudders in anticipation. Tetsurou grips his cock slightly harder, fucking himself into the ring of his fingers at a relentless pace. 

You work your fingers with perfect precision inside despite your head spinning in circles. “Tetsu, too fast-, fuck, I can’t-,” you whine shamelessly, all air practically knocked out of your lungs just by imagining his cock slipping in and out of you at an ungodly pace like that. Your fingers aren’t half as good as his dick, but you can feel that familiar throbbing sensation in the pit of your stomach, so at least they do something. 

Tetsurou leans forward, his cock throbbing in his grip before he tumbles over the edge, shooting ropes of white cum right onto his bare chest that trickle down to his stomach. The guttural swear word he groans out after is what sends you into your own orgasm with a broken cry of his name. Clenching and releasing all over your own fingers, your mind is completely hazy and blank, your body shuddering and sticky with sweat as you wipe away the tears that are pricking in the corners of your eyes with the back of your hand. 

A heavy exhale of his breath is exchanged for a soft whimper from you, and that’s how the both of you spend the next minute or two. His eyes flicker to the chat room, scanning through it with no interest whatsoever despite how much people are praising him. Perhaps he’s used to these types of comments, you think to yourself while scrolling through to feed your curiosity. 

‘Shit, that was hot as fuck’, ‘oh my god I want that cock in me right now’, ‘he’s literally so big he can split me open in half’; the uncomfortable pang of pain in your heart is back, but it quickly becomes an insufferable emotion that stomps on your spirits when a certain comment comes through. 

katsurou’s pretty kitten <3: how many golds for a private show? <3 

There’s a fleeting moment where you hope Tetsurou somehow has missed the comment, but a faint glint across his eyes tells you more than enough. 

The last thing you hear before shutting the lid of your laptop is his low chuckle. “Enjoy your fucking private show then,” you say bitterly, your voice breaking as you scowl at the tears that are beginning to roll down your face. 

Because as you choke back a sob and the hour hand of the clock moves to ten, you remind yourself about two things: 

Number one, Kuroo Tetsurou is not awkward in front of the camera. 

And number two, you’re fucking in love with him. 

-

It takes Kuroo Tetsurou three occasions for him to realise that he’s completely smitten with you. 

The first occasion was four weeks and some days ago during one of his live streams when all he could think about was you as he denied himself another orgasm. 

Because his head was dizzy, befuddled with an unbridled pleasure at thinking about your sweet, desperate whimpers, your unyielding grip on his shoulder as you paint crescent marks on his skin, red, flushed cheeks under those hooded eyes - because the image of you wouldn’t have allowed him to last for more than one minute. 

But Tetsurou eventually knuckled under, when his chest felt like it was on the verge of bursting, when he was practically seconds away from fainting because of all the blood that had rushed down south, his cock stiff and throbbing with an obstinate determination to release. He came, hard and violent, and the last thing he saw before his mind flashed white was you. 

The second one isn’t something that he could exactly pinpoint, but it arrives together with the realisation that he is indeed the elephant in the room. 

Ignored texts, unanswered phone calls, and lectures that he suddenly ends up sitting alone in (you must’ve gone through the trouble of rearranging your timetable halfway through the third term); it isn’t exactly rocket science for Tetsurou to know that there is an undeniable distance that you have deliberately put between you and himself. 

And he comes to terms with it some point along the way - he might be getting slightly too attached to you, he thinks silently, and your idea to place this invisible wall between you and him might be a good idea. 

But the thing about love is that it’s unyielding and it demands to be felt. The more he tries to ignore you the more he’s conscious of your presence, and the more he tries to distract himself the more he realises that ignoring you is impossible. 

Because he realises how your head would shoot up immediately every time he walks past you (because his scent is already engraved into your senses), or that you’ve forced yourself to use that shitty liquid eyeliner that you hate so much, and that you’ve pulled the hem of your dress down to cover the speckles of goosebumps on your thighs for more than four times in the past minute. 

Tetsurou really wishes that he could ignore you just like how he’s ignored the titillating comments and private show requests thrown at him after his live streams, but it’s annoying how you’re always in his head. 

The third occasion is right now as he stands in front of you, heart flaming with jealousy and possessiveness after pulling you off of some random in your faculty party. 

“As if you let him grind his dick on you like that,” he huffs, his tone angry as he glares at the red mark on your collar bone that clearly isn’t his, and then at the dirty spot on the carpet of his living room that he has yet to clean. The party was still in full swing when Tetsurou dragged you out, walking with big strides through the ocean of people with his jaw clenched and hand tight around your wrist. Your protests came with your attempt to brush his grip off of you, but he smirked inwardly when you finally caved in, holding his hand just as tightly as you pushed your way through the crowd. 

Scanning the confines of his apartment, you sigh, brushing his shoulder lightly as you stomp towards his kitchen. Tetsurou’s gaze flickers as he follows your movements, and when he’s sure you’re not looking, he lets himself crack a smile. That’s another beautiful thing about love, he muses. Every mundane thing becomes somewhat endearing and surreal. 

Maybe that’s why they say love is magical. But rather than magical, love is more...enigmatic to Tetsurou. Because there’s just something about the way you walk around his apartment like you own the place, or the way you open the second cupboard from the left because he always keeps his coffee capsules there and you know it. Something about your simplest actions kindles a sudden longing sensation and makes his heart burst with a desire to hold you. 

Love, to him, isn’t easy to decipher. 

“So? It’s not like it has anything to do with you.” Your tone is monotonous but your words are laced with nonchalance. Tetsurou flinches at the weight that your words carry, each syllable is sharp and jabs him with the truth that no matter how hard he chews over, he knows he can’t deny. 

But he’s not the type to beat around the bush either. He knows that he loves you - he loves you so much that the times he spent waiting for you to call him back was a misery in itself. It felt like he was suffocating and gasping for air, but not because of drowning, no. He was above ground, his clothes dry, but it was as if a literal chunk of his heart got taken away. Breathing was hard, and the pain was real. 

So stepping forward, Tetsurou decides to bite the bullet. 

“But I don’t like it,” he rasps, and like that the first heavy weight gets lifted off his shoulders. His voice sounds more like a demand rather than a simple share of sentiment. “I don’t like when someone touches you like that.” 

“Tetsu, you don’t get to say that.” It warms his heart hearing you say his first name, but the way you look at him with your eyebrows furrowed tells him that you have something more to say. So he leans himself against the counter and waits. 

“I’m nobody’s property, okay? I can do whatever I want, I can kiss whoever I want, I can fucking sleep with whoever I want.” 

There’s a fleeting second where you widen your eyes, your eyes flashing regret as you look back down to the cup of coffee you’re stirring. From the peripheral of your eyes you see the drumming of his fingers on the marble countertop, as well as the purse of his lips before he bites his bottom lip. 

And you’ve known him long enough to know that they’re his way of telling you that he’s hurt. 

So, “I’m sorry,” is what you say almost immediately, realising that you might’ve just crossed the line. 

Tetsurou replies to you with a fleeting silence and then a clear of his throat. “Why have you been ignoring me?” he asks, exhaustion weighing his voice down. To let someone carry a big chunk of your heart is a scary thing, he thinks silently, because breathing itself becomes too exhausting. 

“Why can’t I ignore you?” you throw a question back. This is similar to the usual back and forth banter between you and Tetsurou, only this time the air around you is grey and murky. 

“Because I fucking need you,” Tetsurou says, jumping right to the point. And just like that, the second heavy weight on his shoulder has been lifted off. He sees the bashful flicker of your eyes, your archly curved eyelashes casting shadows on your red tinted cheeks. “I know I’m getting too attached, but I need you,” he trails off. His heart is beating loudly in his ears, his palms sweaty while waiting for your response. 

“I don’t know, thought you’ve been busy with your - you know, your private shows with ‘katsurou’s pretty kitten’”. 

Tetsurou squints, confused and puzzled would be an understatement as he locks his gaze on you. You’ve been watching his live streams? 

“Is this what it’s been about?” he flashes you a teasing grin. “Because someone requested a private show with me?” 

“Excuse me, she was being so fucking persistent with her comments,” you retort, your bottom lip jutted into a rather cute pout. 

Tetsurou chuckles, because suddenly he feels alleviated. “So? Are you jealous?” 

“Shut up,” you say with an angry scowl. There’s a lopsided grin on Tetsurou’s lips that urges you to continue, and again, you fall right into his trap. 

“Did you do it? The private show?” you finally ask. You had to - you never knew what happened after he chuckled so salaciously at the camera that night. 

Tetsurou strides forward, finally gaining the courage to cradle your face in his hands. “Do you know what’s on my computer screen in every live stream that I’ve done?” he asks, eyes tender and warm as he stares at you. 

You subtly shake your head. “Pictures of you,” he answers proudly. There’s no point in hiding anything, he thinks to himself. “Because otherwise I wouldn’t get hard, and I wouldn’t get money if I can’t get hard,” he says, drawing a light giggle from you. 

“I didn’t do the private show.” He makes sure his voice has that reassuring quality to it, the kind of voice he always uses whenever you feel anxious about an upcoming test. “I didn’t do the private show, so come back to me,” he continues, slowly leaning forward as a silent way to ask for your consent. 

You give it to him almost immediately, pulling him down by his collar and pressing your lips against his so hungrily that the first few seconds already has you panting hard. Tetsurou’s hum turns into a throaty groan that sends you straight into a hazy state, and your mind is no longer conscious of your body as his fingers send shockwaves to the ends of your every nerve. 

“Fuck-,” he rasps, unable to finish his sentence as you eagerly slip your tongue in. You smile at the saccharine taste that soon blossoms in your mouth, the taste that is so Tetsurou, the sweetness that defines what home is to you. 

You miss him so much. 

“I miss you,” his mouth is parted, barely able to focus on the kiss as he answers your musing breathlessly. Foreheads pressed against each other, breath fanning each other’s face, hands cradling each other’s cheeks - the glimmer in Tetsurou’s eyes are laced with fervour passion that you’re sure is reflected by your hooded irises, but right now there’s only the longing to revel in each other’s presence. 

Tetsurou smooths his thumb over the apple of your cheek, feeling warmth in his heart seeing your lashes cast shadows on your face that dance underneath the golden lighting of his kitchen. You inhale, exhale, and then swallow a lump in your throat, and he blinks and chuckles curiously while trying to read your next movement. 

So, “I miss you,” he reaffirms, whispering the words along your jawline up to the shell of your ear. You elicit a wobbly whimper when he brings your earlobe in between his teeth, his tongue that is swirling over a small patch of your skin makes your body grow more fervent with lust. 

I miss you, the words are there on the tip of your tongue, but instead what rolls off is a soft moan of his name when his calloused hands massage your sides, followed by a sharp inhale of breath when Tetsurou sinks his teeth into your flesh. 

“Shit-, stop, Tetsu,” you whimper, trailing off soft mewls of ‘it hurts’, but your body decides to be as honest as ever. You twitch and squirm, stomach fluttering and hips jerking at the pain and pleasure as you crane your neck to grant Tetsurou the permission to do whatever he wants with you. 

He chuckles against your neck, lips peppering soft kisses down to the tip of your collarbone and stopping to examine the splotch of red on your skin with a heart that’s burning with jealousy. The mark is small and faint and Tetsurou licks it once, and then twice, thinking to himself that bruises do look good on you. 

But only the ones that are given by him. 

“This might hurt a bit.” His warning came as quick as his action as he leans his head down further, groaning before he attacks the poor little spot with his mouth, lapping and biting and sucking until the mark expands twice (or maybe even thrice) as big - until a beautiful, bright purple-red mark adorns your skin. 

Your head is spinning and you’re barely breathing when Tetsurou pulls away. It’s as if he has sucked blood and air out of you, leaving you with nothing but hazy eyes and flushed cheeks and an extremely soaked underwear. And he thinks they complement the whimpering mess that you are right now. He thinks you look breathtaking. 

“So, today’s Friday,” Tetsurou states the obvious, hooking his arms under your thighs to place you on the countertop. The coldness of the marble surface makes you hitch your breath, but it’s soon replaced by the warmth of his hands. His fingers slowly but surely slide up, tracing the sprouts of goosebumps along your thighs before disappearing under the hem of your dress. The smirk on his face is challenging and you mirror it with your own lips, because you know exactly where this is going. 

“And it’s almost nine pm and you need to get yourself hard before your live stream?” your tone sounds overly excited accompanied by a triumphant grin on your lips, so you crease your eyebrows when Tetsurou shakes his head a little. 

He leans forward, giving you a sloppy kiss on your throat that makes you unconsciously grind your hips against his, your dress hiking up and exposing more of your skin. 

“What about you be my special guest tonight?” His voice has plummeted an octave lower and you can feel the vibration of the deep timbre through your chest. 

“Don’t you wanna show them who owns this?” he emphasises his last word with a sharp thrust of his hips. You gasp and shamefully whine feeling how hard he already is. 

Fucking hot, Tetsurou thinks. 

And from the way you pull him in to give him a searing kiss with your swollen lips, he supposes you’re not opposed to the idea.

“I do,” you ratify his silent thoughts, biting his bottom lip tantalisingly. “I do wanna show them who owns your cock,” you grind your hips back and giggle when you earn a low groan from him. 

Fifteen minutes to nine, he notes silently. Enough time to explain the basics to you. 

He can’t wait to fucking ruin you. 

-

“Spread it open, kitten.” 

Tetsurou’s voice is commanding as you hear another creak of his swivel chair. You press your cheek deeper into the pillows that force one of your eyes shut, but even with one hooded eye, you can see that Tetsurou is enjoying this a bit too much. 

“Good girl,” he says, and your body shudders at the praise, and at the salaciousness in his tone. 

His eyes take their time to slowly move down your body. Studying your practically wretched face and how your hair is sprawled out messily on his pillow, your nipples that are already perked up even when he hasn’t laid a finger on them, the goosebumps on your stomach, and finally, finally, the slickness of your pussy as you spread them open with your fingers. 

Tetsurou tears his gaze from your soaked cunt reluctantly, checking the time to see how many minutes have passed since he started his stream to distract himself from the image of pounding his cock into your tight little hole.

Nine fucking minutes.

His eyes flicker down to the evident bulge on his pants, and he huffs. He’s already aching in the confines of his sweatpants, but it’s only been nine minutes? 

A questioning look is in your gaze when he looks up, and he loves how your body twitches in anticipation. His cock throbs, and he clicks his tongue in annoyance. He has to do something about it. 

“Now show me,” he instructs you, and he silently cusses at the way your pussy clenches when he speaks in that raspy tone. Perhaps he should use it more on you, he notes silently. He knows you love his voice, but he doesn’t know you love it this much. 

“You’re my good girl, right?” he asks, and you whine, nodding dumbly. 

“Then show me. Touch yourself the way you did when you watched my live stream.” 

If it isn’t for the unbearable throbbing of your clit, you would smack that mischievous grin off of his face. You flicker your eyes to his computer screen and see the chat room blows up with comments, but it’s funny how you don’t give a single damn about them.

Because Tetsurou’s eyes on you are unrelenting that you swear you nearly come right then and there, untouched. 

So with a wobbly sigh you maneuver your fingers, heading straight for your slick that’s already flown out of your hole and wet his bedsheet. You thought of apologising, but the stiffness of Tetsurou’s jaw and the up and down heaving of his chest is telling you otherwise. 

He’s loving this. 

That fact alone is emboldening, you muse silently. 

“Shit-,” you hiss through gritted teeth when your wet fingertips brush over your clit, spreading it open even wider for Tetsurou to see just how swollen and red and aching it is. You’re shameless, impatient, and demanding as you rub circles on it, eager to see how Tetsurou would react. 

And he reacts beautifully. 

Cursing under his breath, Tetsurou is quick to free himself from his pants, throwing them to the ground hastily before he pumps himself over the layer of his underwear. 

“Are you gonna ask them for fifty golds?” you ask, challenging him with your snarky tone. You’re already gasping for air, legs already shaking while trying your best to keep them open. 

Tetsurou scoffs, stroking himself faster while watching you match his pace as you slide a digit in, stretching yourself open in front of him. A low groan that carries a heavy weight of yearning and desire rumbles from his stomach, and with a swift motion he slides down the cotton material, letting them pool around his ankle. 

“Do you think I give a fuck about golds now? You look so fucking hot, fuck,” he growls, and you whine pathetically. Obscene noises of your sloppy cunt echo throughout his room but you keep on stretching yourself open, adding another digit as you fuck yourself with your fingers in front of Tetsurou. In, out, in, out, accelerating your tempo to match the sporadic pumping of his wrist. 

“Oh my god, baby,” you moan wantonly, the pet name that you thought would sound foreign rolls off your tongue with ease. It’s going to be difficult to control yourself from screaming his name when he’s buried balls-deep inside you later, but you suppose you’ll cross that bridge when you get to it. 

Tetsurou pants, his chest heaving up and down frantically. Watching him through your 13-inch screen is nothing compared to this, when he’s sitting before you, legs spread open and gaze staring right and through you. Your eyes scan the twitch of his forearm as he fucks himself into the ring of his fingers harder, and the way his abs glow under the fluorescent lighting of his bedroom. 

And when you can see the beautiful ripple of his tensed shoulder, you know that he’s close. 

“Are you close, baby?” you ask, massaging the swell of your breast teasingly while adding another digit. Tetsurou replies with a small hum and the frantic nod of his head. 

“Fuck,” his voice is louder this time, and you find yourself clenching around your own fingers. “I’m so close, I’m so close,” Tetsurou announces repeatedly, and you motion for him to come closer to you. 

He gets your message immediately, taking no time to pull you to the edge of the bed and reveling in the way you open your mouth so widely and readily for him beneath him. You swirl your tongue over the slit, and just like that he tumbles over the edge with a low growl, releasing his seeds all over your tongue, some drops landing on your chest. 

Tetsurou doesn’t taste sweet, but he still tastes good that you lick clean every single droplet of his cum. 

“Fuck, do you even know what you look like right now?” he asks, the lines between his eyebrows reflecting just how keen he is to bury his face in between your legs. 

Probably like a bitch in heat, you answer his question inwardly before Tetsurou interrupts your musings, tugging your legs to spread you even wider in front of him. His movements are hasty, you note silently, and you know that he’s running out of patience. 

So that makes the two of you. 

“Hurry,” you urge, prompting a deep growl from him and before you know it, you’re locking his head in place with your thighs, your body spasming when he flicks his tongue over your clit. 

Tetsurou groans and parts your leg apart, diverting his attention to the plush skin of your thighs. “Stay still,” Tetsurou whispers, his voice uneven, and then he dives in, biting down on your supple flesh and leaving purple-red marks that mirror the ones on your neck. Your helpless yelp makes his cock twitch, and when he looks up at you with eyes that are full of carnal desires, you swear you lose all consciousness right then and there. 

“If anyone ever sees these,” he pauses, sucking another hickey on your skin hungrily, “it means they’re where they’re not supposed to be. Understand?” 

You nod, succumbing to his dominance. Fuck, the authority in his voice makes you feel so small and vulnerable beneath him. It draws a whimper from your throat, which then breaks into small cries of inaudible words when he flicks his tongue rapidly over your sensitive bud. There’s no gentleness whatsoever in his actions, just a raw desire to make you cum on his mouth. 

Tetsurou inserts his digits without warning, groaning around your clit when he feels how incredibly tight and inviting your walls are. The vibration of his voice makes you rock your hips against his face, and he takes that as a cue to slurp and suck even harder like a ravenous animal. 

“Holy fuck-,” you scream into the air, fisting his hair to anchor yourself when your legs tremble. His tongue continues its ministrations, fingers curling and rubbing that spongy, sensitive spot inside of you, and your body jerks violently, you know your orgasm is going to be more violent than anything you’ve ever experienced. Your sex is burning from the overstimulation, and you feel like you’re going to explode. 

“Wait, baby, stop. I feel weird, fuck!” Tetsurou answers your pleading with a chuckle, because the way you pull him closer, the way you rock yourself against his mouth, the way your leaking juices create a wet spot on his bedsheet;

-your body never deceives him. 

His cock grows harder than ever when he peers up to see your blissful expression; back arched, chest heaving, and head thrown back. You’re merciless, you drive him insane, and he wants to make the sensation mutual. 

“I got you,” he mumbles, feeling another violent tremble of your thighs. “Cum whenever you want.” Tetsurou rubs violent circles on your clit, knowing exactly what’s going to happen. 

Something within you snaps, and for one second it’s like you lose control over your body, liquid spraying out of your sex and making even a bigger mess on the bed - and Tetsurou’s face. You ride the pleasure out, screaming and fisting the crumpled sheet as you stumble hard over the edge. 

You don’t know what the fuck just happened, you’re fucked out, confused, and embarrassed, most of all. It felt good - too good that your eyes sting, tears pricking in the corners as you hide your face with the back of your arm. 

“It’s okay.” Tetsurou hovers above you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead, hushing the first sob that escapes your lips with his index finger. “You’re okay,” he hums, smearing his cock with your juices before slamming himself into you. 

“Tetsu-!” you let out a broken cry of his name, wetness decorating your cheeks, and if Tetsurou is speaking honestly, at this point he doesn’t give a damn if the internet knows his name. Because you look so damn beautiful beneath him, beady eyes, wretched moans, crying as you try to take his cock. 

“Look at the camera for me, kitten,” he instructs, not even letting you process his words as he cups your jaw and turns your head to the side. “Look at yourself for me baby,” he says as he continues to slam into you with great force. Tetsurou groans when you pulsate around him, and he hammers himself harder in your tight hole, watching and studying every contortion of your face intently. 

“You look beautiful, don’t you think? Crying while taking my cock like this.”

Your response is another blissful cry of his name, your pussy trying so hard to accommodate the stretch of his shaft that seems to have grown slightly thicker as it twitches inside you. 

“Fuck, my pretty baby,” Tetsurou groans low and throaty, and you flutter around him at the praise. You’ve always thought you looked ugly when you cry; swollen eyes, puffy nose, and mascara running down your cheeks. But to hell with that, you think, because right now you’re a sobbing mess from the overwhelming sensation in your body, but Tetsurou is calling you his pretty baby as he abuses your hole with his dick. 

You choke back another sob. You’re his pretty baby. 

“Tetsu-,” you whine his name, incredibly needy with your tone, to which he replies with relentless snaps of his hips. 

“I got you, pretty girl,” he chimes, quick to pick up your weakness. Your self-consciousness is rid of and you’re crying, beads of tears rolling down your face with every violent thrust of his hips. 

Tetsurou pulls away only for his thumb to find your clit, smiling softly when he draws another broken sob from you. “Give me another one, yeah? Can you?” 

You shake your head, tits bouncing as Tetsurou continues to jackhammer his cock deep into you. “Can’t Tetsu, too much-, oh my god.” 

“You’re my good girl, right?” Tetsurou remarks, slowing down his pace to give you a searing kiss on the lips. You whine, a faint pout on your lips, but Tetsurou knows that you’re greedy for more. You love the praises he’s giving you, and you’d do anything for more. 

And damn it, he’s not wrong. Because the flick of his thumb is unforgiving and you’re approaching your pinnacle fast and hard. 

When it crashes down on you, you cry and scream, liquid gushing out of you again as you cream all over his cock. 

“There it is, fuck,” Tetsurou growls above you, reveling in the mess that you’ve managed to create in less than five minutes. “Good girl,” he says with a melodic voice, rewarding you as he swipes his fingers over your folds. He brings them up, pushing them past your lips experimentally only for you to suck on them earnestly despite having to taste yourself. 

Because like he said, you’re always greedy for more. 

So, “good girl,” he rewards you again, massaging the swell of your breasts before he slams into you, fucking another orgasm out of you as he chases after his own. A repetitive string of ‘yeah?’ leaves his lips as he increases his speed, sending shockwaves that whip throughout your body every time he jerks forward. 

“Fuck, you feel so good,” a low-blow, you think, and unfair, because you feel a weight of orgasm in your chest slowly rippling down to your tummy. “You’re so good to me, baby.” 

And when it reaches your core, the tension burns fervently, snapping another coil inside, making you spasm violently around his length. Your fingernails are planted in Tetsurou’s thighs, scratching and imprinting crescent marks on them as his body slowly becomes redder and redder. 

“My fucking god, I’m cumming-,!” Tetsurou’s cock convulses and his body tenses, giving you another three hard thrusts before he shoots thick ropes of white inside your walls. You scream his name in ecstasy, your body sated and completely fucked out as Tetsurou stills himself, pulls out, and collapses on top of you. 

The camera is still rolling and the chatroom is noisy, but you stay still, fingers brushing through his hair as he lays atop your body. 

And Tetsurou stays still with his ears pressed against your chest, listening to the steady beating of your heart. 

-

“I never realised you have so many hair products.” 

There’s something you love about how the hard surface of the bathroom tiles makes Tetsurou’s voice echo. His dulcet timbre mirrors the way he softly runs his fingers through your damp hair, brushing small strands and untangling every knot with perfect precision. 

“I have three,” you chime with a soft laugh. You love being cared for like this - when all you have to do is sit completely still, listen to the ripple of the bath water, and smile whenever he leans down to worship your body with kisses. “Three isn’t a lot.” 

“I have one, baby,” he retorts playfully, and you snort when you glance at his two in one shampoo and conditioner bottle. His hair always smells nice though, a slight combination of milky and peppermint brushing over your nostrils every time he walks past. 

Grinning bashfully, you lean back, feeling the warmth of his chest against your back. “So are you gonna start calling me baby now?” 

From the corner of your eye you see a flush of red dancing on the apples of his cheeks. Cute, you think. 

“You don’t like it?” he asks, fingers ghosting over beads of water on your skin. 

Entertwining your fingers with his, you answer him with a smile, “I do, I like it. Don’t call your viewers that though,” you trail off. 

Tetsurou throws his head back and chuckles. Glancing down at the pads of his fingers, he takes a notice at how they’ve puckered a little bit before swiping his hair back. 

“Are you still okay with me live streaming?” he asks, sincerity in his tone. “I’ll stop if you’re uncomfortable with it.” 

And he means it. Because it’s always going to be about you and that beaming smile on your face that shines brighter than the summer glow. It’s always about what makes your heart flutter, not drop. And one word from you is all he needs. 

“And what? Back to listening to you complain about how broke you are?” you reply to him with a breathy laugh. “No, thanks. You’ve earned so much just from jerking off in front of the camera. And that means I’m never going to have to pay for meals again.” 

“Is that all you care about? Who’s paying for meals?” he tickles your side, followed by a little nibble on your neck. 

His gaze follows the trail of fresh, red bruises on your skin, running his tongue over them and kissing them before repeating his actions all over again. “I love you,” he mumbles into the junction where your shoulder and neck meets, and you say the words back as a soft whisper into his ear. 

And suddenly the lines between you and Tetsurou clear up, like the first hint of sunshine after a rainy afternoon. 

You smile, because just like that, the strings between you and him are finally attached.


End file.
